Gingerbread
by femphoenix
Summary: Emma is only stopping by the give Henry a Christmas gift when the smell of gingerbread invites her inside for a bit more fun than she ever intended with the Mills family. One-shot Swan Queen


**Gingerbread**

**_A/N New laptop! Yayyyy. I have another week off for the holidays which means I have intentions of writing a bit more. I go back to work on the 6_****_th_****_ and spring classes start on the 10_****_th_****_ (by the way…that's a Friday. I don't understand why classes start on a Friday…). This is a Xmas present for my friend _**Spookshowbabyx**_ (if you haven't heard of her, shame on you. Go look her up. She is rather coughamazingcough) with the Word prompt: Gingerbread/Sex/Non pre-existing (or something along those lines I think). _**

**_This one-shot ended up taking far longer to write and the length exceeded my intentions; however, I do hope that this is for the better. To add a bit of humor here before getting on with the story I must also add that I finished the majority of the ending at a Starbucks in the mall on Christmas Eve which far FAR more awkward than I ever thought it would be…if you know what I mean._**

**_Note: This story takes place sometime during the curse in which only Henry knows about Regina._**

**_Please review if you enjoyed this! And if you didn't, still review and tell me why! Happy Holidays~_**

* * *

Despite the rest of the town looking as if Christmas had hurled all over the streets, the Mill's Manor remained untouched by the holiday cheer save for a reef hanging on the door that Regina had secretly made herself. The glorious smell of ginger baked heaven filled the large house, the aroma enough to make anyone's mouth water.

The brunette had never been one to indulge in the overwhelming cheer of the season; the mere thought of children believing in a red clothed, fat old man who was said to sneak into ones house and put presents under a tree made the woman cringe with an overwhelming need to lock herself away in the study with a book. However, this time of the year presented a fine opportunity to gain her son's love back.

"Henry!" mother scolded son as the little brunet attempted to reach inside the oven and pull out the pan without any mitts. Thankfully his hands were pulled away just in time to save him from scorching. "I told you to use oven mitts."

"Sorry, mom."

He frowned as he reached for them and slid the cookie tray out of the oven. There was a soft clatter as it was placed onto the counter to cool.

Brown eyes watched quietly for just a moment as she took in how big Henry had gotten. He wasn't that little boy anymore that she could hold within her arms, but she still loved him the same if not even more. Unfortunately, she felt that the love she held for her son was slowly drifting over him like a soft breeze leaving no trace. As much as she had tried to prove that she loved nothing more in the world, a blur of cheap red leather and matted blonde hair had intruded into her life and destroyed everything she had created.

Slim arms wrapped around the small, once fragile, frame of her son, pulling him close against her. There was a moment of tenseness until she felt him relax into her as she ran long manicured fingers through his brown locks.

"I love you, Henry."

"Love you too," he mumbled like any almost teenage boy would do and slid out of her grasp like a drifting cloud. "I wonder what Emma is doing for Christmas tomorrow."

The sound of the woman's name was like nails scratching at a chalk board and she flinched. The last thing she cared about was how alone the sheriff was. Most likely she would have her lips wrapped around a bottle at that moment while her roommate was off sneaking around this Eve with dear David.

_If only the blonde would decide to leave town tonight and end up running off the road whilst intoxicated. That would be a rather exciting Christmas present, _she mused darkly to herself with an inward chuckle.

As if the gods had an evil sense of humor there was the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house pulling the brunette from her thoughts.

"I'll get it!" Henry yelled and then darted out of the kitchen before Regina had a chance to stop him.

_Who in god's name is here at this time?_

Looking up to the clock she realized that is was only six thirty, yet they weren't expecting anyone. Nevertheless, someone _had_ come to pay a jolly visit; god forbid if it were carolers on her doorstep.

As she turned on her heels, the sound of the door opening, there came a voice far more aggravating than any holiday hum.

"Emma! What are you doing here?"

"Yes, Miss Swan," the older woman chimed in, pushing Henry behind her, "What _are _you doing here? I don't recall inviting you. Surely you haven't come here to enlighten me with the holiday cheer through the work of vocals."

"Very funny, Madame Mayor. As much as I would enjoy making your ears bleed I actually came to drop off Henry's Christmas present."

"Unless your brain is far more dysfunctional than I first thought, Christmas is tomorrow, dear."

Green eyes narrowed as delightfully red lips twitched upward.

"I realize that. I wasn't aware you were going to let me see him."

"Who said I was? Unfortunately, I've come to the painful realization that _my_ son has devoted much of his time to breaking every rule I place down regardless of the consequences."

Behind her Henry awkwardly fidgeted and diverted his gaze to look at the floor sheepishly. Despite of the several times she had threatened the blonde to stay away from her son, the little brunet seemed to gravitate towards her as if the ten years his adopted mother had under her belt meant nothing.

"Just wait till he hits puberty and you'll really be hurting," Emma grinned.

"Can I open it?"

Small hands reached around his mother towards the colorful, yet painfully wrapped, gift in the blonde's hands.

"Not till tomorrow."

With a small pout he took the gift and then looked up to the brunette, small hazel eyes fixating on brown. "Can Emma stay?"

There was that aggravated twitch again, a small pull downward at red lips. It was so hard to say no to him especially since they were actually having a wonderful time bonding throughout the evening. It was the closest Regina had come to seeing her son genuinely smile since he was a small child before that dreadful book had been placed into his curious hands and distorted his mind.

"Surely the Sheriff has other duties."

A finely shaped eyebrow was raised. Certainly the town drunks were running around wreaking havoc, something the blonde was probably turning a blind's eye to.

"Actually it's been insanely quiet tonight and I had all calls forwarded to my cell a week ago."

"Sure you did," Regina muttered with a roll of chocolate gems.

"What was that?" the blonde's eyebrow raised with challenge.

"Nothing, dear."

Looking back at her son she felt the heavy pang of shame building up in her chest as the rest of the night's events began to unfold in her mind's eye. Henry would cross his arms in defiance once the sheriff had departed, telling the brunette that he was tired and wanted nothing more to do with baking and finishing their plans. He would retreat to his room, pretend to give in to slumber, but then the soft glow of a flashlight being used to read his book to fairytales would bleed out under the door.

But then a sharp revelation fluttered by and she caught hold of it by the frail wings. Emma Swan was the last person she wanted to spend Christmas Eve with; however, this was a perfect opportunity to make amends with the enemy. If she couldn't get rid of those piercing blue-green eyes, she would make peace with them. Better to have the enemy closer than far away when it finally came time to tear down the castle.

Stepping to the side, she allowed the blonde entrance into her home with a faint sigh. As soon as the door was shut behind them, a heavenly scent of Christmas wafted into her nose.

"What _is_ that smell? Are you baking—?"

"—gingerbread cookies!" Henry cheered and took hold of Emma's hand, escorting to the kitchen where the usually sparkling counters were covered in homemade cookies, candies, and anything else one could think of. "Now you can help us build our gingerbread house."

It was supposed to be something between just him and Regina, but of course the blonde had to ruin that. Little did Emma know that this was a tradition they had started as soon as Henry was old enough to start building things out of Legos.

Hiding the painful hurt on her face and reverting back to her usual stoic mask, she crossed her arms as stood under the archway of the kitchen.

"Make yourself useful and grab that tray, Sheriff," Regina pointed to the silver tray that was stacked with freshly baked gingerbread in several different shapes, "I'll get the rest."

Both the blonde and brunet were too lost in their own glee to notice the strain in the mayor's voice as they gathered the needed materials and brought them into the drawing room.

Upon entering the room, green eyes fell upon a beautifully adorned tree that rested in the corner near the hearth which was giving off a very comfortable crackle and glow.

"You act as if you've never seen a Christmas tree before," Regina noted with a bemused tilt.

"I just never expected to see one here, ya know? You don't exactly give off the jolliest attitude towards this time of year."

"Ah, and you do?"

The mayor cleared off the coffee table and sat down a bowl of icing followed by the tray Emma had been holding.

"Not really," the blonde shrugged, "I've never really understood the enthusiasm since I usually spend the holidays alone."

"You don't have to be alone this year!" Henry said with a bright smile, reminding the two women that their snarky conversation could only go so far with a child in the room, "You've got us."

Emma smirked as she saw an appalling look flash across the other woman's face who was trying to suppress an eye roll.

"Henry, I forgot to grab the decorations," Regina said as she looked over everything, "I think they're in the—"

"—cabinet. Got it!"

Brown and green eyes watched as the boy ran out of the room, leaving them to each other's venomous gazes.

"I'd offer you something to drink, but I wouldn't want to expose my son to such habits."

"I'm not an alcoholic, Regina."

"You sure about that? I do remember coming to sheriff's station to find you behind bars for driving off the road."

"Ugh," the blonde rolled her eyes, "I wasn't drunk and you know it."

"Mm."

An awkward silence fell upon them for a short moment. The mayor resorted to kindling the fire, leaving her backside exposed. Blue-green eyes became entranced by the slender figure bending downward towards the flames allowing her already teenage mind to run rampant, but before they were able to conjure up anything too wild she bit down on her cheek and shifted her weight to the other foot.

"I'm still in denial that you're actually letting the kid have sugar."

"Despite what Henry likes to believe, I'm not entirely evil, Miss Swan. Besides, it's the holidays. I can allow my son to indulge just a bit as long as he doesn't break the rules."

"You're trying to win him back."

"Excuse me?"

The brunette whipped her head around and peering over her shoulder, brown eyes laced with fire landed on the sheriff's.

"Henry. You're jealous that he wants to be around me more so you're trying to win him back with sweets."

"That's absurd! My son loves me."

"I never said that."

Meanwhile, Emma had picked up a small tree shaped gingerbread cookie that was now on a trajectory towards her lips. Regina scowled and as if Hell's Hounds had been released, she was on the blonde ripping the treat from between her fingers.

"Hey!"

"That is _not_ to eat, Miss Swan!"

"_What_? Then what else do you plan on doing with it?"

There was an aggravated sigh with another set of eyes rolling.

"It's for the gingerbread house you imbecile."

Their noses were almost touching at this point. Regina pursed her lips. A pair of small feet padded into the room.

"Mom? Emma?"

Breaking out of their glare, the brunette looked down at her son who was holding several different bags of candy. He was looking at them with curious confusion, but eventually shrugged it off and walked to the middle of the room, dumping the assorted sweets onto the coffee table.

* * *

This gingerbread house would be the death of them all. Even after several attempts the walls would begin to cave inward or the roof would slide off. Blame was put on the icing not being made properly in which the brunette insultingly claimed to be a false accusation. Instead, Regina insisted that it was because of Emma that the house wasn't setting properly.

"I _told_ you to hold it like _this_," the mayor scowled.

"I _was_!"

"No you weren't!"

With an all too audible groan, Regina pushed herself off of the couch.

"I'm going to go clean the kitchen."

Emma bit down on her tongue and turned to her son who had a slight frown on his face as he attempted to push the two gingerbread walls together.

"Hey Emma, I got an idea."

* * *

There was the clatter of dishes as another clean yet wet plate was placed, or more so dropped, into the drying rack. Cleaning had always been one of Regina's go-to activities when situations got stressful. This was the last thing she wanted on the night before Christmas. All she wanted was a quiet night with her son and to not think that just down the road there might have been a lonely blonde drinking herself to death wishing that she hadn't been such a fool to give up the only thing that could have brought happiness to her life.

_He is _my _son! I held him in my arms before he could even conjure up a thought! Did _you _ever hold him, dear? Did _you_ ever have to endure his endless cries from late night hunger or nightmares? What _right_ do you have to come into his life now?_

She twisted the rag into a tight coil before she collapsed onto her hands on the counter. This wasn't right. None of this was fair. This was supposed to be _her_ happy ending and Emma was tearing it down stone by stone.

Taking a quick glance to the clock hanging on the wall, she came to realization that almost an hour had passed. Never mind the fact that no one had come in to check on her. Shaking her head and wiping the solitary tear that threatened to break her, she proceeded back to the drawing room.

"What in god's name…?"

As soon as she entered into the warm room, her gaze fell upon the entirely new gingerbread house that was halfway finished. Instead of it simply being an ordinary house, the two had managed to form a decent looking castle surrounded by white trees.

Regina wasn't quite sure whether to be amazed that they had pulled it off or appalled that her past was still coming back to haunt her in whatever form it could. There was something else off about this scene. It was far too quiet. The only sound was the soft crackling of the fireplace that would need another log soon.

Then she saw it. Her son was curled up against Emma's leg peacefully sleeping as pale fingers ran through his hair. Sensing eyes on her, the woman looked over and softly smiled.

"Oh, Regina, hey. We uh…almost finished, but the kid fell asleep. Sugar crash I guess."

"I see."

Regina was frowning as she stepped forward, catching sight of red leather that had been thrown over the arm of the couch which left the blonde sporting a rather amusing Christmas sweater.

"Should I wake him?"

"No, it's alright. I can carry him."

Emma raised an eyebrow in disbelief causing the mayor to snicker.

"I'm not feeble, dear. Just because I dress in skirts and wear high heels doesn't mean I can't carry my own child to bed."

The younger woman held up her hands in mock surrender.

* * *

When the woman came back into the room again, she held two crystal glasses filled with spiced eggnog between her slender fingers. For a moment she grew a bit concerned to find that the spot where Emma had sat was barren, but then she saw gold locks lit by the fire.

The pale woman had found a spot on the floor near the hearth, her knees pulls up with her chin resting on them. Her green eyes were staring intently into the flickering orange and yellow as if she was looking for something.

"Something on your mind, Miss Swan?"

It was the closest she had come to actually carrying about the blonde all night, not that she actually did, but the way the woman sat as if she were a child made her wonder. Upon hearing her name, Emma looked over and gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I should probably get going."

Releasing the hold on her knees, she went to sit up, but stopped at the surprising comment.

"No, you can stay for a bit longer if you like."

A nervous laugh left pale lips along with the raise of her brow into her hairline.

"Are you being serious?"

"You've already been over for the last few hours," she brunette shrugged, "I'm sure that I can endure a bit longer. Besides, I brought eggnog."

"Ahh finally. Something worthwhile," a pale hand outreached to take hold of the glass that was being offered to her, "You want my company."

"I never said such a thing."

"Okay, so you want a form of company which so happens to be me. Join me."

She patted the open spot next to her, but received all but a shake of the head.

"I'm not sitting on the floor, Miss Swan."

"It's _your_ floor, Madame Mayor. I highly doubt you're going to get your skirt dirty."

With a slight tilt to her lips, she chuckled but proceeded to perch upon the end of the chair nearest to the other woman. The tension Regina had been feeling all night was slowly beginning to ease away, but she didn't quite understand why. Emma was still here which had been the cause of her stress in the first place.

Perhaps her mind was still in the "make friends with the enemy" mode or perhaps she was finally realizing that being alone on the night before Christmas wasn't something she had to endure every year. This was _her_ happy ending which meant others were to suffer not her, yet she had undergone this silent night as long as she could remember, and upon seeing the blonde curled up into a ball on the floor let her know that Emma had too.

_But she is my downfall,_ Regina argued to herself as she forced herself to stare into the fire and not the back of golden curls, _she is only here to destroy me and take everything I ever built. She will tear my castle down stone by stone. _

"Look," Emma turned her attention from the fire and met chocolate eyes, "I didn't mean to intrude tonight."

"It's fine. Henry seemed happy to have you here."

Stone cold.

"Should we finish it?"

She motioned towards the gingerbread castle that was in the midst of decorating.

"No, I think not. He would probably have a fit if we did."

Emma chuckled lightly and took a sip of the eggnog which was a bit stronger than she had been expecting, yet gladly accepted it as the thick liquid slid down her throat. She needed it. The tension still hung like a damp cloth, but was slipping away with each sip.

"Did you make this?"

"Apples aren't my only forte. My talents are far more ranged than, my dear, unlike yours."

"I'm just going to act like I didn't hear that."

"Because it's true?"

"Stop, Regina," soft, yet annoyed, "Tonight has been pretty civil between us. You don't have to pick a fight with me just because we're actually getting along."

"Is that what you call this?"

"I'm not calling it anything really. I just…this is actually nice, ya know? If you take away your bitchiness you're not all that bad."

"If you say so, Miss Swan, but don't tread in waters you know nothing about. You just might get sucked in."

"Would that be so bad?"

"Hmm?"

Emma shook her head and turned back to the hearth. The alcohol was slowly beginning to calm their thoughts down and they sat their silently, listening to the dying fire that neither cared to add a log to.

Almost a half hour passed, give or take a few minutes, when the blonde finally began to stir, rising from her seated position on the floor. She reached for her sweater, which she had thrown off at some point during the night, as she caught hold of Regina watching her. It was an odd moment between them. Not a word was said and neither could have vocalized their thoughts for there wasn't much to say.

This had been the first night Emma had spent with anyone since…well for a long time. One could imagine it was the same for Regina.

"I'm not trying to take Henry from you," the younger woman said with a soft voice, "I just wanted you to know that," Regina stood up and plucked the leather from the couch and offered it to the blonde, their fingers touching lightly, "I just want to spend a bit more time with him."

"You should have thought of that before you did a closed adoption."

A low blow; true, nonetheless.

"I was young, Regina…I didn't know any better. Didn't you ever do stupid things in your past that you regret?"

A painful look overshadowed the mayor's face which was quickly replaced by her mask, but Emma had easily caught it. That was an emotion one usually didn't see when it came to the stubborn, alleged queen. The last thing she wanted to do was pry into the brunette's past, for that would consequentially either get a good scold or result in the blonde's own admittance to her own history, neither a desired result.

Instead she slid her hand onto the older woman's forearm that granted a curious narrow of brown eyes. Surprisingly neither pulled away.

"I'm sorry."

The genuine apology came from red lips rather than pink which elicited a bemused shock. That was a first. And before any other stupid strand of words could ruin this strange, odd moment between them, Emma leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against the others.

Regina drew in a jagged intake of air, freezing in her place. It was softer than any kiss she had ever received and it lasted for only a split second, yet her mind instantly began to swirl wildly.

Expecting a hard push to her shoulders and bracing herself for the excruciating screaming that was on its way, Emma waited. And waited.

Regina was staring blankly, lost in her own daze, as her hand that had found its way to Emma's shoulder fell away to her side.

"I should…probably go."

"I believe you should."

Emma went to take a step back, her pale face now flushed red, but was caught off guard when the older woman lunged at her, grabbing hold of her face and connecting their lips once more. This time it was the blonde who grew faint as a velvet tongue swiped against the bottom of her lip.

Soon enough the back of the sheriff's calves hit the edge of the couch and she fell backward into the plush cushions allowing the older woman to straddle her waist.

"I _really_ should go," she muttered between alluring kisses even though her hands had wandered to the backside of a finely tailored skirt.

"But are you?"

"Only if you make me."

"When did _that_ ever stop you, Sheriff?" she grinned against pink lips and felt warm heat as the younger woman laughed.

Taking hold of the brunette's bottom lip with her teeth, Emma tugged at it, but released when she felt hands sliding under her shirt accompanied by sharp nails raking across a taut abdomen. It was rather impressive that this woman was able to maintain such a perfect body with her sugar and grease filled eating habits, a comment that she would surely keep to herself, however.

As she slid up the sweater, and tank top that resided underneath, she studied the snowflakes and snowmen that littered the horribly colored pullover with an all too well sneer.

"You've never had good taste in the first place, dear, but what on earth is with this atrocious sweater?"

"Mary Margaret gave it to me. I was trying to be nice."

"Hm," taking both of the garments in one swift motion, she lifted them up at over the blonde's head to expose a delicate green bra that looked far more expensive than anything else the woman owned. "Ah, much better."

A single manicured finger ran down the valley of perfect swells, the motion sending shivers down the victim's spine. Leaning up Emma tried to connect their lips once again, but was pushed back with surprising force, so instead she resorted to working at the buttons of the mayor's blouse, frowning as the act was a bit more tedious than desired.

The scent of the older woman was making her head spin, but surely enough her hands weren't shaking right? No, that was ridiculous. It's not like Emma had ever imagined a scenario as such…okay, maybe she had.

Her hands were slapped away with a sigh as Regina finished what the blonde started, laying her blouse delicately on the couch in contrast to the other garments that had been tossed elsewhere to only god knows where.

It didn't matter how many times the mayor had sauntered into her dreams, seeing the woman's olive skin contrasted by a black laced bra was breathtaking. Wet lips found refuge on the darker woman's neck and slowly worked their way down the long column until they hit the collarbone to add a sharp nip. Meanwhile a pale hand traveled up the flat stomach, which was contracting with breaths, until it hit its mark, squeezing the laced globe with a much needed pressure.

"Oh _god_," Regina groaned out, "What are we doing?"

"We shouldn't be doing this," the woman under her agreed.

Emma's breath was cold against the brunette's wet skin.

"Henry is right upstairs."

"Then that just means we need to be quiet," Emma chuckled and formed a wet line of saliva up the length of the mayor's neck.

"I'm not sure you'll be able to do that, my dear," Regina replied with a husky tone.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can contain myself."

"Is that so?"

Without warning, a quick hand slipped into denim eliciting a surprised squeal from the woman underneath her. The sudden pressure and flick of skilled fingers came and went in the blink of an eye and when it was gone green eyes opened in desperation to see dark eyes narrowed vehemently in minor victory.

That's when Emma retaliated. Taking hold of the older woman's waist, she attempted to spin them over, but the odd twist resulted in knocking them off the couch. Down they went between the couch and the table, almost knocking off the gingerbread castle, in a humorous sprawl of limbs.

"Miss Swan!" Regina choked out furiously when the back of her head collided with the floor, "Have you lost your mind!?"

"Sorry!"

Golden curls hung down over the mayor's face as the woman that was now above her laughed hysterically as if she was immune to the soon-to-be bruises that Regina was sure to find.

"Get off me," the older woman growled, palms pressing against the sheriff's chest, but getting nowhere.

"Why? I kind of like it down here."

"Miss Swan!"

Forcing her weight onto her forearms, the woman in accusation leaned down until she was nose to pretty nose with a fuming queen and whispered delicately.

"_Emma_. It's Emma."

"Fine, _Emma_. Get off me."

There came a momentary pause and then a cruel grin.

"No."

Before Regina had any time to argue, the sheriff was kissing her again, this time fierce as she forced a pointed tongue between apple red lips which were reluctant to part at first; however, after a few seconds of trying to deny pleasure, slender arms finely gave in and wrapped themselves around the blonde's waist, pressing their bodies together.

When was the last time Regina slept with a …well a woman? Little to anyone's knowledge, though surely many could have assumed, the queen had partaken to several carnal activities with the more attractive women of the kingdom (whether they consented or not was another matter), but that seemed like centuries ago.

What was making her head spin now, or perhaps it was the knee grinding against her, was the fact that out of all women to be attracted to her was Emma Swan, the woman that was destined to tear her world apart. Of course the brunette knew that she was rather attractive, but for the blonde to exert such an interest without even thinking of the consequences blew her mind.

But she didn't know what was running through that muddled, cobwebbed head of the sheriff. She could have simply been acting out of carnal desire or perhaps this had all been planned. The latter seemed the lesser of acts. Either way, both of them were lonely and what a better way to spend Christmas Eve then sprawled out on the rug, naked, by a dying fire?

Their clothes has disappeared at some point, the only pieces of fabric between them now being thin strips of cotton and lace against flesh, but that was little trouble as pale, cold fingers slipped under the seam to find soaking warmth. Emma was grinning from ear to ear as she watched the mayor squirm underneath her.

"Miss Swan," Regina growled as her hips bucked forward to catch the retreating hand.

"_Emma_."

"Ugh, will you just qu-_it!_" her voice hitched at her bundle of nerves was pinched precisely between thumb and index finger.

"Beg," she whispered into the hollow of the brunette's ear.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You've lost your mind if you think that—"

White teeth bit down her throat with unforeseen strength extracting a startling high-pitched gasp. When the pressure didn't come to a halt, only grew, sharp nails dug into shoulder blades and dragged down until red marks appeared to be glowing against pale flesh.

"Emma, _please,_"

Upon receiving what she wanted, two fingers slipped inside of the warmth and worked until the brunette was almost out of breath, panting as her chest fell upward and downward at a speed one would think unsought. Just when she thought she was falling, a finger brushed against her with just the right amount of force and she went soaring. It was only because of their lips colliding that her scream was muffled.

Drawing out her fingers and licking them clean, Emma leaned up on her forearms once more and grinned the smuggest grin anyone had ever seen.

_That did _not_ just happen, _Regina mulled, but her shaky body was enough evidence to prove otherwise. Her neck was throbbing and if she were to look in the mirror she would see cruel purple teeth marks marring her perfect skin.

"You're leaving?" she asked in confusion as her brows pulled together, watching the younger woman lift herself off and search for her clothes.

"I…uh…yea."

"If I don't see Henry tomorrow tell him Merry Christmas for me"

_You'd break your neck just to see him,_ Regina combated, but then a thought dawned on her. If Emma didn't sneak around to see her son then that would mean she would have to come face to face with the brunette in the light. Away from a dim lit room. Come face to face with an act she just committed and Emma Swan wasn't willing to do that right now was she?

Judging at the deep red cheeks that were barely visible in the light of the fireplace, Regina could only laugh to herself, feeling oddly accomplished. Now the mayor had an entirely new reason to avoid the blonde or perhaps even better: a new way to taunt.

"I assume you can see yourself out, Miss Swan?"

"I can," Pulling her coat tightly around her as if it could form a protective barrier, golden curls fell over the woman's face that was staring down at her feet, "Merry Christmas, Madame Mayor."

_**A/N Don't forget to leave me some love! I hope you all have a fantastic Christmas and New Years.**_


End file.
